


Problematic Delivery

by avuck



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: pizza delivery au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avuck/pseuds/avuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted pizza. All he wanted was good food to complete this nice relaxing day, and what did he get? No food, humiliation, and now he was probably going to lose all his hair from the stress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problematic Delivery

It'd been a slow day- one where North wanted to do nothing more than lounge on the couch. Not even putting in a loud and intense movie to watch; he'd be content just staring at his vintage floral wallpaper. Three years he'd been living here and still hadn't gotten around to changing it. Granted, it was hideous. But interior decorating wasn't exactly prioritized on his list of things to do.

Food, however, was, and North realised with a groan from his stomach that he was both hungry and unwilling to make anything himself. Anyway, he was sure that if he were to check, his cabinets would be void save for an old can of peaches a some condensed milk. North didn't shop much. 

That was no problem to him though- he'd just order something, have it delivered. There was a local pizza place with a menu so greasy, one could literally spoon puddles of grease off the surface if they wanted to. North decided this wasn't a night for any of their greasier pizzas. 

Despite not being regular at the place (sure, he liked his pizza with the crust soaked through with grease, but he knew better than to eat there too often, and steered clear of any heart attacks at his ripe age of twenty-four), they always seemed to know what he meant when he ordered "the usual". Having a friend who worked nights and weekends at that place had its benefits. Unfortunately, discounts weren't one of them.

"Its just TWO dollars, Wash!"

There was a low sigh on the other end of the line, and North knew that the other as trying hard to maintain his service-friendly smile. He may be only speaking on the phone with North, but that didn't mean there weren't other customers who could actually see him. 

"Exactly. Two dollars? That's like... a gumball. I think you can afford to deal up an extra two bucks."

North clicked his tongue, and he swore he could _hear_ the scowl making its way across his younger friend’s face. "When was the last time you actually bought a gumball? Those things are dirt cheap."

“You know I only ever buy those industrial bags; how should I know how much it costs just to buy one?” 

North shrugged, “Uhh, common sense? One gumball wouldn’t cost half the price of one of those monster packages.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, before North heard muffled voices: one belonging to who he assumed was Wash's shift manager. She was always getting on his case for all the "Sunday morning conversations" he had with North while on the job.

He came back to the phone with a rushed voice. North already knew who’d be spending the two dollars by his tone, “Okay, okay, look I gotta get back to work but I’ll spot you the two dollars. I’m raiding your house for compensation though-- stop smirking, I know you’re smirking--”

That was where the call ended. North decided the manager must have gotten fed up at that point, and had slammed a hand on the phone's hook, as she did every time North called to pester her underling. 

With not much left to do once food was well on its way, the blond decided a shower would help pass the time. He could manage a quick one, surely he'd be long done before the pizza actually arrived. 

Unfortunately he had an awful sense of time, and before he even finished lathering his hair with shampoo, he heard the faint chime of his doorbell over the falling water. 

Well. _Shit_.

He scrambled to rinse his hair of whatever suds he could -cursing when his eyes started to sting and water as the shampoo ran into them- grabbed a towel and went tripping down the stairs, tying it around his waist as he went before finally answering the door. By then the delivery person had grown impatient and after the first two chimes or so, had taken to steadily ringing the bell, holding his finger in place with his mouth pulled tight and at a slant on his face. 

North coughed to get the guy's attention, who turned his head with eyes wide in surprise and a sudden jolt to match. He took a half step back and shifted the pizza box to balance on one arm, pointing to his left eye with his now free hand. 

"Bad eye, sorry," he offered a meager shrug. 

North only nodded. He'd hate to admit it, but he couldn't look away from the scar that seemed to rip through his eye and across the man's cheek. Given the washed out color, it was clear that the other man was blind in that eye. 

North unconsciously let his gaze linger over the area, following the red line of the scar down his cheek, which may have been clean shaven that morning, but now had the start of rough facial hair. The man's jaw wasn't sharp or angular, like some sort of Adonis, but it wasn't rounded either. More oval-shaped, North thought. 

He also thought about how incredibly _good_ this guy looked. And here he was standing in a towel.

The delivery guy-his nametag read 'York', with a lazily drawn smiley face next to it- suddenly tilted his head down, motioning toward the box he was holding, and coughed. He looked uncomfortable, and North didn't have to wonder why that was. God he was an idiot. 

"Oh! Yeah, thanks--" North started to say as he reached for his prized meal. He didn't finish because suddenly there was a soft _foosh_ sound below him, and the pizza guy put his arms up as if in defense and -- oh God he was staring, _why was he staring?_

With the shock of the situation, North instinctively moved his hands down to cover himself up, taking the pizza box with him. The box, of course, because some how things could get even  
worse than they already were, flew open fast, dropping the pizza on the welcome mat. 

York stared helplessly, rightfully horrified by the scene in front of him. He couldn't even manage to say anything, save for a drawn out "uhhhhh".

Nothing could save North now. He just wanted to die right there. He'd accomplished enough in his life for it to have been worth while at this point. Just let him die.

Of course, being the fairly fit young man that he was, North did not receive any such mercy as death. Damn his own high standards of health.

He couldn't think at this point- didn't even _want_ to think- so he stepped back behind his door and slammed it shut without another word or thought. 

"Hey what--" The pizza guy's voice came cracked and muffled through the wood between them. He stopped to clear his throat. " Uh, are you just gonna leave the pizza here or--?"

"It's for the birds!" North hoped the man couldn't tell how red his face was by the strain in his voice.

"...What?"

"The _birds_."

There was a long silence after that, and for one foolish moment North thought that maybe the pizza guy had left. Maybe he was free from this hell of embarrassment. Maybe he was finally safe from worsening the situation. 

Then, of course, came the sporadic knocking. Was he using both hands? Seriously, what the hell? “You still have to pay me, y’know!” 

North let his head fall back and groaned silently. He just wanted pizza. All he wanted was good food to complete this nice relaxing day, and what did he get? No food, humiliation, and now he was probably going to lose all his hair from the stress. His entire day had been undone in a matter of seconds and it still wasn't picking itself up even now! This was just awful. 

It was then that North realised, in his post-shower state, he naturally didn’t have his wallet on him, and by extension, cash. He visibly scowled, wondering if the way-too-attractive-for-his-own-good pizza guy would have come in the house if he’d invited him in while he went to retrieve it. What a wasted opportunity. 

Calling out to York that he’d be back shortly, North scurried into the bathroom to fish his wallet out of the pocket of his pants. He really should get in the habit of emptying his pockets before throwing his clothes in the hamper. His wallet went through the wash _and_ dryer twice already. He lost three phones. His sister even chastised his forgetfulness when a ticket to a sports game she payed for came out faded and wet. 

This time North thought to throw on a bathrobe before heading for the door again.

“I’m back! How much was it again?” He called, stopping short before opening the door. There was no way he could let this guy see his face again, even now that he was fully clothed. It was too late for that now wasn’t it? If he was lucky, he didn’t get a look at it yet, and didn’t have it committed to memory. What if he saw this guy in public? 

“Six bucks even.”

Right. Okay, he could do this. North was counting out the money (plus a decent sized tip because damn him if he wasn’t going to try to salvage this _somehow_ ), when suddenly, the idea hit him. It was a way out from having to look the pizza guy in the eye again. A stupid way out, but it would work. 

After returning the rest of his cash and chucking the wallet aside, he crouched down and started shoving the money through the mail slot. It wasn’t easy, since he had to lift the metal flap and shove the bills up and through the hole, but he did it. 

Once again he could hear a confused “Uhhh” coming from the other side, followed by a hesitant, “What are you doing?”

North swallowed down his embarrassment, mustering up his will to reply, “Paying you.” 

He heard the guy pick up the money he'd dropped for him, sifting through it and counting what he'd been given. "Dude, I told you it was six bucks."

North nodded. Then, realizing he'd have to give verbal response since this guy couldn't see him, he waved a hand at the door and said, "Yeah, I gave you a tip."

"...This is how you tip?" North could just picture York's mouth falling into a puzzled frown, "You gave me a fifty and three singles."

God. Fucking. Damn him. The universe was cruel. He must have put the money meant for the pizza guy back into his wallet by mistake.

"I'm just... gonna give this back to you..." The mail slot opened again, this time from the outside, but North took no hesitation in slamming his hands over the metal and holding it flat to the door.

"Keep it!" His cringed at the shrillness of his own voice. 

"But--"

" _Keep it_!" 

Again, silence. Then there was a mumbled, awkward "okay" and the sound of receding footsteps. North waited a few seconds before he let himself stand again, stretching his legs before peering through the cheap blinds on his window. York strode toward his car- a brown station wagon, the well known pizzeria's logo in place on its roof- and turned his head to look back at the house with an expression of utter bewilderment before actually climbing into his ride. The car looked old, and the door stuck open when York tried to swing it closed. 

It was while watching him pull out of his driveway was when North decided he would never order pizza again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a lot shorter, and stop after North's towel dropped, but my beta, magicalmagic prompted me to further humiliate him. She was also my beta, and writes hgr own fantastic works I recomend you check out! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'm thinking about doing second chapter but that depends on if anyone would be interested /:


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